I Will Guard You
by Oblivion'sChild
Summary: The world-eater, Alduin, has resurfaced to Skyrim and plans to destroy Tamriel. The DragonBorn has been created by the Gods, to follow his destiny to devour Alduin's soul. With the help of the DragonBorn's housecarl, Lydia, he will fulfill the path that has been set out for him. Lydia is now his undying follower in his quest to slay all creatures beyond. Lydia POV. CHAPTER 4 UP!
1. Dragon?

**Alright, this is a Skyrim story told from the always faithful Housecarl Lydia. Whilst playing Skyrim, I realized that Lydia may have some different views than the DB, and I thought this would definitely be interesting. At this point, the DragonBorn has already retrieved the dragonstone from Bleak Falls Barrow. Hope you enjoy, and please give me feedback!**

I awakened as a slim beam of light strikes my eyes, coming from a window to my left. My eyes fluttered open lazily as I slowly conjured up the strength to rise from my bed. Strangely, I hear a loud commotion coming from the Jarls hall. I quickly threw on my steel plate armor, completely forgetting my gauntlets and shield. With my sword in hand, I charged into the Jarl's hall. The large fire pit in the middle of the great hall warmed my tired skin as I run around the large room looking for the threat, yet nothing appeared to be in any immediate danger at all. I turned my gaze onto Jarl Balgruuf, who was exchanging frantic words with his court wizard and his housecarl Irileth. I quickly ran up to them, wondering what in the name of Oblivion was going on.

"My Jarl, What's happening?" I asked. I kept my distance not wanting to anger Irileth. The dark elf's glare reads: 'I've got my eye on you'. I tried to ignore her, hastily stepping back.

"Oh good, Lydia," Jarl Balgruuf sighed in relief, "A dragon has attacked Helgen, and there apparently is a dragon down at the Western Watchtower this very moment. We've already sent several guards and a traveler down to deal with the beast."

"A what?" I stood there wide-eyed and open-mouthed at the Jarl, probably making a fool of myself. "I'm sorry my Jarl, but I think I've misheard you, for a moment I thought you said that there was an actual dragon in the city limits." I laughed it off, as if he was just joking. The Jarl shook his head, his blonde braided beard swaying side to side along with his hair.

"I'm afraid you heard right Lydia. I was skeptical when I heard the news too. When the traveler came to me with the news I nearly laughed. A dragon attacking Helgen! But aye, I guess the legends are true. Maybe the Gods are tired of us." Jarl Balgruuf exhaled tiredly, seeming very old all of a sudden. The court wizard Farengar Secret-Fire laughed harshly.

"Maybe? The gods are begging for an end! They've abandoned us! Skyrim is doomed, and destined to be devoured by the World-Eater, Alduin." I shake my head at blue-robed wizard.

"Why must you be so negative?" I ask as Irileth barred her teeth at him. The wizard glares at us in annoyance.

"Well if I'm not, then who will be the reasonable and sensible one around here?" Farengar Secret-Fire hissed, he then held his left hand above his head and released a bright ball of light. The spell lightened the already bright room, the orb able to follow him around. Irileth glowers at him devilishly.

"Just because you can cast your silly little magic doesn't make you better than me, mage," snarled the Jarls Housecarl, obviously referring to a past argument. I slowly sidestep backwards, leaving the destruction that would soonly take place to the dark elf and nord. The Jarl noted my step back and smiled delicately, softly laughing to himself.

"Silly magic!? Magic will save this world!" Farengar exclaimed.

"Sorry, but I doubt tricks will save Skyrim, and besides, I thought you said we were doomed!" smirked Irileth. Her red hair fell into her face, causing her to sweep it back again. Only by this did she realize the Jarl tapping his foot irritably.

"Are you two quite done? We will figure something out." The Jarl then sat on his throne, rubbing his eyes. I looked down at my steel boots, something abruptly bothering me. "Look sharp Lydia?" said Jarl Balgruuf, looking as if he begged for a solution, yet I was about to confront him with another problem.

"It's just," when he noted my tone, he sat back, frustrated I hadn't thought of a plan, but still I continued. "Even if you sent those men to see to the dragon, what assures you that it will die? I thought no one could truly vanquish a dragon?" I nervously bit my lip.

"True, but we have to try. There is no DragonBorn to absorb its soul; this is why I believe the Gods have grown tired of us. They have sent us to our deaths whilst dragons destroy everything we know. I think I would have preferred them just killing us all at once to be truthful, but I will stay positive as long as I am alive and as long as I have a city to look after." He nodded to me. "Oh, and Lydia," he added as I started for the door, leading out to Whiterun.

"Yes, Jarl Balgruuf?" I turned on my heel to face him. He rises from his throne. The gold circlet glinted in the light given off by the mage's candlelight spell.

"You will do kindly to remember this, do not, under any circumstances, go out there and fight that dragon; this is not your fight, Lydia. Better yet, as if not to tempt you, I order you to stay with in Dragonsreach. Do I make myself clear?" he crossed his arms, challenging me. With defeat, I return to him. "Good, now, Irileth? I believe you are needed at the Western Watchtower, now go, before the fighting begins." Without another word, she was off. _Oh! So she gets to go_... I huff to myself as she leaves.

Proventus Avenicci, the Jarl's steward, then enters the room, approaching the Jarl.

"Did you have any sightings of the beast from the balcony, Proventus?" said the Jarl, straightening himself in his chair.

"No, but this does not mean it's not lurking in the clouds," he sighed. Something seemed to be unsettling him. It was probably something about his daughter down at her forge while a dragon roamed in the mist. Jarl Balgruuf muttered to himself. Finally, he responded to Proventus.

"Please see to getting me some mead, Proventus. I have a very bad feeling that this is going to be a long day." His steward nodded and went to the kitchen, seeing to his Jarl's needs. While I tapped my foot, looking at the large doors leading out to Whiterun's Wind district. Perhaps I could lie, saying I was merely going to Belethor's General Goods store to browse. No, the Jarl was not stupid. I grumble to myself as I tried to think of a better excuse.

Suddenly, a guard rushes into Dragonsreach. The Jarl glares at him, impatiently waiting for the guard to catch his breath once he was before us. With his hands on his knees, he managed to wheeze out a simple word that would change our lives forever.

"Dragon!"

**And there you have it! I know this chapter went kind of slow, but hey, I was getting the foundation of the story! Now I hope everyone understands just who the traveler is… yeah, so I hope you all enjoyed it. Feel free to leave me your comments, I'd love to know what you have to say, and tell me if I should continue. (Even though I probably will anywayJ)… until next time!**


	2. Dragonborn's Housecarl

**Hello my companions! I hope you all have liked what you are seeing so far. I believe this chapter is more, let's say exciting. This part was thought up from when the Dragonborn first comes to the Jarl once the Greybeards have summoned him/her. (He has already retrieved the Dragonstone for Farengar secret-fire) I would really love feedback, enjoy! **

I stood beside the Jarl, holding my breath as if it was truly the last possession I owned. My dark eyes dart from the exhausted guard to the Jarl's contemplating face. Deep and dark silence entered the large hall, only interrupted by the crackle of the large fire pit every now and again. I glanced toward the kitchen where I saw Proventus holding three bottles of mead, perpendicular to the enormous doorway, not sure as what to do. His eyes caught sight of me wondering if he should approach the Jarl in his current mood. Hesitantly he walked forward, his head low. Proventus set the bottles beside Jarl Balgruuf's throne, only to then take his place at the bottom of the stairs.

"A dragon is here, in my city. The beast is attacking my people. Attacking my land. My home." He paused for probable effect, "I want this demon scum dead!" he roared. The cry sprung from his lungs to the high ceilings and back down to his subject's ears, echoing in their heads. Ignoring the urge to jump back, I instead swung my arms forward, stretching my tired muscles, trying to appear brave and strong, when I really wanted to cower in the shadow of the Jarl's anger.

"Guard, I want you to send more archers to the Western watchtower to aid my housecarl and the others." Said the Jarl as he pulled the cork from his mead and took a hefty gulp.

"But, my Jarl, there are only a few of us left?" said the man gingerly.

"Then send them all! I want this blasted thing dead for good! Understood?" the Jarl raised, causing the wine to tumble to the ground, forming a puddle around Balgruuf the Greater's feet.

"Ye-yes sir! Er, I mean my Jarl!" he gulped, begging to cure his parched throat. Though the guard wore a helmet, I could see that his eyes blazed with the glint of fear I have seen perhaps too often. Yet never in the face of a guard have I seen that wild gaze. The one where your pupils are dilated and the irises occupied the rest of the eye.

The Jarl breathed deeply, agitatedly calming himself.

"Now if you don't mind, I have a city to keep." He told the guard, sitting down. Not needing to be told twice, the young guard scurried off to the guard's tower to round up the others. If only I could get out there. I could aid them in their fight. It's not like I have more experience than them, it's just, I feel like out there is where I'm supposed to be, not locked up in Dragonsreach the rest of my life. Slowly I begin to walk forward, passing the long dining tables.

"Lydia? Where are you going?" questioned Balgruuf the Greater. I deliberately ignored him. I could hear him stand, his breathing growing unsteady. "Lydia! You get over here now, I will not ask you again!" yelled the Jarl. I began to run, taking to stairs three at a time. I charge the massive doors, thrusting them open brutally. I could hear the Jarl unsheathing his sword cursing at his guards to catch me, but I was already gone. Only now did I realize that I didn't even have all of my armor and would be useless to the fight, but I wanted to see it at least.

"In the name of the Jarl, stop right there!" roared a guard.

Two lookouts came running up the stairs outside, and three flanked me. Not seeing any other way out, I sidestepped, jumping into the large pond at the bottom of Dragonsreach. I had made it to the Wind district. I slosh out of the water passing the bulky stone statue of Talos, along with a priest screaming to people who weren't even there. The guards were descending the stairs now, swords drawn. Dear Gods, what have I done? I sprint through the Wind District like the, well, wind. I come upon Whiterun's market center. Yet I had no time for buying fresh produce. Citizens stop their conversations to see what scene lay in front of them. I pass the townspeople quickly, not apologizing for running into them every now and again. Turning a corner caused the city gate to be seen in the near distance. I just had to reach the gate, and I would be home free. I turned my head, whipping my black hair in my face, to see the guards were still racing after me, only now they were farther away, their stamina running low. I grinned slightly, I had done it.

"Lydia! You have done it my dear!" I laughed to myself. Suddenly, something rammed into me. Causing me to spring back, falling to the hard cobble stoned ground. Without my gauntlets, the stones tore at my skin, snatching it viciously. With the sting of blood racing down my arms, I look up at whatever had blocked my way. The young guard stood before me, his sword drawn. He looked down at me sickly. With a raw voice, he stated,

"Lydia, you are under arrest by the word of the Jarl. What say you in your defense?" I stared at him, awestruck. How had _he_ caught me? I shook my head in utter disbelief. I was so close, all while so far as well.

"I-I" I stuttered. My brain had gone blank. My mouth had lost all knowledge of how to form words. The young guard sighed in relief as his predecessors caught up. They yanked me to my feet, tying my hands in ropes behind my back. I could feel the tight cable dig into my fresh wounds, causing them to bleed more, forming a small puddle around our feet.

"Take her to the Jarl, and then send her to the dungeons." Though the woman guard wore a helmet, I could practically feel her sinister smile as the joy of capturing me sunk deep within. I growled at her delight. The guards had to drag me the entire way. Sickened with fear of what the Jarl would do to me, I dug the heels of my steel boots into the cobble and dirt. I gulped nervously as large beads of sweat trickled down my temple, and materialized between my breasts.

What was he going to do with me? Troubled thoughts weaved in and out of my head and heart as the citizens gasped and or laughed as they hauled me back to the Jarl's palace. Here was a girl who had escaped and ran them down, that now lay defenseless, and probably off to her death by a very angry Jarl. I sighed deeply, knowing it was the end for me. I would be known as 'the girl who wanted to play with dragons, executed by her master.' I absolutely did not want to be known for that, but escaping a second time was definitely not the answer.

So we trudged onward, marching up the stone steps toward Dragonsreach beyond Whiterun's Wind district. The large decorative door was now in site. Before hauling me into the long hall, a giant roar followed by screams of people took place in the distance. All three of us looked back (the two guards and me.) Black smoke rose from an unseen point. The guards and I gulped heavily. That could only mean death. I hastily looked down. _Why would you have wanted to go out there? It would have proved nothing but nightmares._

Without notice, the guards shoved me forward, leaving their fallen brothers behind them, rather regrettably I noted. The first thing I noticed was the Jarl standing at the bottom of the stairs, pacing. I couldn't recall any time where the Jarl had even been close to the stairs. Had he actually been waiting for me?

"Lydia!" he sighed in relief. Perhaps I was transparent when he looked at me, or maybe I was showing my utter disbelief too well, because he straightened up and began to stride toward me, all relief subsided.

"Lydia, you disobeyed me, and resisted arrest by my guards. Do you have any idea exactly how much trouble you are in?" Jarl Balgruuf the greater stared at me, apparently waiting for an answer.

"Uh, yes, I do realize it." I held my head in shame. How much more of a child could I have acted? Only children dreamed of fighting dragons. Not women in their 20's? "I am ready for whatever punishment you give me, my Jarl." I lied. The Jarl's face hardens.

"Good," he said solemnly. My throat dries instantaneously as my hands take that moisture and shoots it out sweat glands. I wiped my damp hands on my leggings with my hands bound together as he figured me forward. My last moments would be in the same place as where they first took place.

"Uh, do you mind if you cut off my head outside? I would prefer the fresh air, and the mess would be-" the Jarl glared at me quizzically. "Uh, right, never mind."

I stood before the Jarl as he unsheathed his ruby increased sword.

"Kneel." He murmured. Slowly, I got on my knees. Apologetically, I look into the eyes of my uncle. Knowing the blade would slice my head right off, quickly and cleanly. He raised it dramatically, the light bouncing off of it. The slight fear I had felt quickly escalated to a bubbling panic that exploded in my chest. He was actually going to follow through with this! No remorse glinted in his eyes. The descent came, yet never went. With confusion, I looked up at my uncle. He stared at me, with an unidentified expression.

"I-I don't understand" I stuttered. I stood, not sure as what had just happened.

"I will find a worse punishment for you, my dear." His voice was deviously cold, yet it made a sudden uncontrollable rush of liberation as I comprehended that I was not going to die today, well not from this anyway.

Abruptly, a thunderous boom shook the palace. Strange sounds erupted from an unknown source; seemingly well beyond the gates of Whiterun. Everyone in the long hall glanced nervously at one another, not really knowing what to do.

"Gods, was that the call?" muttered a guard to his companion. Call? What call and who was calling? No, who was the damn call for? I glared at him, mentally telling him to continue onward, yet he never did, the armored man on kept repeating the same words over and over again.

"My Jarl? What do we do?" asked the same lady guard that dragged me back here. The Jarl paused to consider.

"We wait." He announced to the room. Getting himself comfortable, he lowered himself in his throne.

"Wait!? But sir! What if it's a bandit raid! What if we are under attack?" argued Proventus.

"I said we will wait." He snarled, slamming his fists against his chair. The entire room cringed slightly. The fire crackled replacing the irritation of the Jarl's growls. I looked down at my boots again, then to the large tan doors. The anticipation of wanting to know who or what had made this 'call' nearly ate my innards.

The aromas of lunch being prepared drifted into the long hall as we continued to wait. I could smell goat cheese melting in a pot over a large cook fire and horker meat slowly turning above the cheese pot, its juices searing into the cheesy blend. My stomach growled ravenously. I took deep slow breaths trying to calm my hunger. The Jarl's cook only made it worse by adding mammoth snout to the mixture.

I was nearly about to snap and sprint to the freshly cooked meal when the large heavy doors cracked opened, with a head sticking through it. The Jarl craned his neck to see who was there. He smiled slightly at the shadow.

"Ah! Come in Duvaithor, come in indeed!" laughed the Jarl. The silhouette straightened, and entered the hall. The light bounced off his deep blackish greenish skin. His smile was seemingly dark and devious. Even when he walked, it seemed as if he was crouching; ready to lighten your coin purse. His eyes were pure white, no pupil stood in the way of the mesmerizing white. He approached the Jarl, holding a fresh new wound on his face, which stretched from his forehead, through his right eye, and through his top lip.

All joy gone from the Jarl's face he said, "So, is, is it dead?" he asked the traveler. A minor smirk formed as he nodded. "For good?" he added, clutching his heart. Leisurely, the dark elf looked around, and sighed tenderly.

"Let's just say, I would find it hard for the, dragon to make its way back without a soul." He whispered icily.

"His soul!?" yelled the Jarl in shock. "Well that means… Why, it can't be? You're… Dragonborn?" his eyes widened in amazement. Farengar secret-fire gasped dizzily. My eyes never left the traveler.

"How, how did you find out? I mean, I heard the Greybeards call, but I would have never believed it! How did you find this out?" the Jarl rose from his chair, demanding answers from the dark elf.

"I absorbed some kind of energy, and that noise from, the greybeards? Then I guess that happened." He shrugged.

"Do you know what this means, Duvaithor? This means the gods have not abandoned us! There is hope for Tamriel after all!" Balgruuf the greater practically danced like a mad man. The dark elf's arched eyebrows curved even more than normal. A slender grin bent onto his face.

"No, I guess I did not think of the meaning of it." Duvaithor bowed his head towards the Jarl, giving him the entire credit.

"Suck up." I muttered under my breath. I shuffled my feet, kicking up imaginary rocks figuratively in my way. The dark elf's reddish orange ponytail was almost as annoying as his snide smile. What was he doing in Skyrim anyway? It belonged to the Nords, not elves.

"Well, Duvaithor, by my right as Jarl, I name you Thane of Whiterun, it's the greatest honor in my power to grant. I assign you… Lydia, as YOUR personal housecarl, and this weapon from my armory will serve as your badge of office. I'll also notify my guards of your new title, wouldn't want them to think you were part of the common raddle now would we? We are honored to have you as thane in our city, Dragonborn." Jarl Balgruuf the Greater then turns to Proventus, acknowledging the fact that they still had a city to keep. My mouth hung open as 'Duvaithor' turned his eyes upon me. He smiled cynically as he visibly saw what a shock this news was to me. I snapped my mouth shut promptly. Stomping closer to the Jarl.

"Uncle, you cannot be serious?" I whispered urgently in his ear. He glared at me.

"That's Jarl, to you." He then turned away, ignoring me. Rolling my eyes I obliged.

"My Jarl… You cannot really mean this? You can't really expect me to follow him around and protect him with my life!? For all I know he could be wishing only to murder me! Or worse! He could be finding trouble so I have to save him and only die in the process! It's absurd!" I hissed. Jarl Balgruuf tilted his head toward me, smiling distantly.

"I told you I would find a suitable punishment for your actions, Lydia…" he purred. _Oh that's just cold._ Grinding my teeth I walked toward Duvaithor.

"Well, you must be Lydia, aren't you suppose to introduce yourself already? Well, I'll begin, Hello! My name is Duvaithor! And I am your thane and I guess the Dragonborn! As you can tell, I've had a really efficient day today!" he snickered. Ignoring him, I walk upstairs, retrieving the rest of my armor. Without surprise, he followed me, muttering things like "Oh, my, you've already _forgotten_ something, tut tut, Lydia, you really should be more organized." And "We should really go fight something to warm you up. I doubt you've fought anything recently." I groaned in agony as he went on and on, begging Azura, Talos, or any freaking god to save me from my torture.

**Eh? How did yall like my twist with Lydia? And how was my description of Dragon born? Oh! I would love to thank my best bud ElfDavis!? Not only for proof reading all this, but mainly for introducing FF to me and well, just for being awesome really. Ha, well, feedback would be amazing, farewell my friends!**


	3. Hero

**Hey everybody. Thanks for all the awesome reviews! Alright, this chapter is all about what happens while on the journey (and some side quests) the Dragonborn and Lydia take while on their way to High Hrothgar…, now remember, Lydia has not been outside of Dragonsreach for a while now, so if you feel that I am talking about the scenery or something too much… there you go. As you can imagine, this could be fascinating… enjoy!**

I trudged down the stairs, giving the Jarl one last menacing glare before we left. Why did _I_ have to be _his_ housecarl? Out of anyone in Tameriel, the gods chose him, a dark elf. And an annoying one at that.

As we set foot out of the gates of Whiterun, he looked at me, and chuckled.

"What?" I hissed through my teeth. We continued onward. He shook his head.

"Nothing, my dear friend, nothing." Duvaithor smirked with deep simplicity. I stopped, letting him roam in front of me. In a wave of anger, I began to unsheathe my sword from my hip. The heat of my fury fled, though as slow as it did, I still resisted my urge to mount his head on my wall. I stomped forward, grumbling to myself, wishing for sweet solitude in my room back at Dragonsreach.

"Lydia…" He rolled his tongue over my name. He cocked his head back, stopping slowly. With my right hand still on my hilt and the other into a tight ball, I glare at him.

"What?" I muttered, spitting each letter out. He mulled over what words he should say next, only seeming to annoy me further. Finally, the inspirational words came to him.

"Our next move is to go to High Hrothgar, but first, I promised Farkas and his shield siblings that I would do them a favor. You know Farkas and his twin Vilkas don't you?" I held up and irritable hand.

"Yes… I know who they are; I have helped the Companions myself a couple times with their tasks." I walked past him wanting nothing more than to shove him to the ground. I scanned the horizon, taking in each bitter cold moment. In the far distance, snow was accumulating on a large mountain. An elk ran free with a doe close behind, the two creatures glanced momentarily at me, seeming pleased with the fact that I did not have my weapon unsheathed. I smiled at them, seeing the strength of the elk and the swiftness of the doe, and the grace from both of the beings. For a moment I almost forgot about….oh yeah…

"Well, good, Aela needs us to take care of a bear down at honey brew meadery. Think you're up for the challenge?" he grins slowly. His white teeth sluggishly peaked through his dark grey lips. I squinted my eyes at him, wondering how he could be so thickheaded.

"Yes that I am, my _thane…_" I jeered. Duvaithor abruptly stepped closer to me, so close that his nose nearly touched mine. I sucked in my breath, expecting the unexpected. His twisted smile went sour as he stared me down. I miraculously managed not to blink as I gaped into his blinding white eyes. Was he even looking at me? It was hard to tell when he didn't have pupils or irises.

"Then I suggest we see how ready you are indeed, my _housecarl…"_ Duvaithor said oozing with none other than self-righteous arrogance. I held back the urge to spit in his smug face.

"By all means, _lead the way!_" I said in a chirpy voice. Slowly we trudged onward. I knew this was going to be a test, an extremely easy one at that, but still. I had to kill this pest with style. Yes I was trying to impress him, only to wipe that stupid smug smirk off his arced face. We grew closer to the meadery. I scanned the horizon again, smiling to myself. What pure beauty. How long has it really been since I've been out here? Months? I let the sadness of isolation drain from me as we stopped suddenly. We were already standing in front of honey brew's door. I blinked. That was short. Had we already passed the farms? Whoa, I really needed to keep my head out of the clouds, especially while in the presences of Duvaithor. Did I really trust him? Hell no. Would I ever? Not very likely. Would I kill him? Yes, yes I will, er would…

"Prepare yourself," Duvaithor said seriously. I rolled my eyes haughtily and unsheathed my weapon, leaving my shield strapped to my back. He slowly shook his head disapprovingly. "Your arrogance will destroy you my friend, better to be safe than sorry, yes?" he  
said genuinely. I huffed and chuckled under my breath. Duvaithor took out a long dagger and let his left hand spark up into flames. I stared at it for a couple moments. I wondered just how powerful that ball of flame would be.

"Oh, don't worry Lydia, you will be taking care of this one, all of this is just in case you fall and the beast has grown tired of your corpse." Duvaithor smiled rather chipper. I stared blankly at him. Was he actually serious? Minutes passed as I debated. If this all was only to have me killed… why would he have even wished for that? He didn't know me! I was nobody! Unless he usually played these sick little games. Could he have run with the dark brotherhood? My stomach suddenly churned with confliction. Lydia! This is only a bear! You could slay it in your sleep! I huffed deeply and shook off his remark.

"Well after you," I gestured for Duvaithor to open the door and enter. He arched his already curved eyebrows, while tilting his head. "Unless, you're scared?" I taunted. Duvaithor's teeth grinded harshly. Brutally, he clutched the door knob and swung it open, stepping forth into the meadery.

Nearly instantaneously, a giant bear lunged forward; heading straight for Duvaithor, and oddly, as well did a saber toothed cat. The scene happened too quick for him to do anything except stand there will they pounced.

"Duvaithor, LOOK OUT!" I screamed while tackling him. I landed a top him. He stared at me in utter disbelief as I lay sprawled on top of him. The hard metal of his iron armor felt cold under my recently scrapped hands. I shoved his face to the ground as I got up; fluently I snatched my shield from my back, smacking the large snowy cat away. The bear stood on his hind legs, ready to have his paw come crashing down on me. I veered left, cleanly slicing off his paw. The silver blade collided with his flesh and bone, causing a grinding feeling down my spine. The beast roared in pain as its front paw went flying. The saber cat hissed and came from my side. Just as I was reconsidering my tactics, Duvaithor finally showed up by my side, fighting it off me. The bear then goes after him, seeing a new threat.

As if we knew exactly what the other was doing, I skidded under Duvaithor's jump attack toward the bear as I took on the saber cat. After his jump attack, he shot flames from his left hand. I could feel the instant heat of the magic. The animal whimpered as the flames seared off part of his fur. I sliced and diced the saber cat's fur, trying to steer clear of its claws and fangs. To my side, Duvaithor gave a hiss as the bear's claw pierced him. I looked over to him, worried that he may fall. Yet he still fought onward. He had blinded the bear with his flames.

The sudden pain in my right arm overwhelmed me. I screamed as my sword fell to the ground. What the hell had happened? No time to investigate. The saber cat knew he had injured me severely.

"Lydia!" yelled Duvaithor as he held back the bear. In response, I bashed the saber cat in the head with my shield. I continued to do this for many more moments. I saber cat had grown weary and confused. With one last hefty bash, the creature crumbled to the blood soaked floor, its skull no doubt caved in.

Seconds later the bear also fell, taking a brutal stab to the throat. Duvaithor sheathed his dagger and turned to me. He looked at my arm with concern. I myself glanced down. Automatically, I wished I hadn't. A large saber cat tooth protruded out of my right arm. I winced as the overall pain hit me, my adrenalin subsided. Duvaithor gently grabbed my elbow and looked at the wound more carefully. I screwed up my face as it moved.

Duvaithor looked at me. "I'm going to have to take it out." I scowled at him, then at the large broken fang. I then scrunched up my eyebrows, wishing that this really hadn't happened. He unwrapped my gantlet, as the fang had gone through the stringed, unprotected part. "Hold still, this will hurt," he said half heartily as he cautiously gripped the fang. Gingerly he slid the fang out of my flesh. I blinked back tears as he did so. "There. Okay, now don't interrupt me. Alright?" he whispered. His left hand slowly crept up and dangled over her wound. She was about to ask what he was doing when the feel of a warm blanket snuck over her wound. She gasped as it dove into her flesh, circulating the warmth all over her arm. The sensation left once Duvaithor set his hand down, yet he still held her elbow, revealing my smoothed forearm.

I gazed at it with shock. "How?…" I asked. He smiled and looked up at me.

"Magic, my friend, magic." He wiggled his eyebrows up and down after he did that, nearly making me chuckle. Yet I held my ground. I took my arm away and looked down at the two animals. He followed my eyes. "You can fight Lydia, I'll give you that," he laughed. I shrugged. His face went serious. "You saved me, Lydia…" our eyes met. "I owe you. I really didn't think you would have, but… thanks…" he smiled. I widened my eyes at the sight. It was perhaps the most genuine smile he had ever given me.

**So there you have it. This pretty much sets up a lot of other things that will happen in the near and or late future. Special thanks to ElfDavis! For editing and encouraging me, as always XD. And to mosleyset2 for listening to me talk about this. Well, hope you all keep with me and enjoy it. Byee.**


	4. Valtheim tower

**I got a little stuck on how to deliver this next part. I had the main idea, but I was left without detail, or layout, so I called upon the help of a dear friend, ElfDavis, who suggested something rather remarkable. I instantaneously loved it. You continually amaze me friend. Anyway, if you read the last few lines of the previous chapter, this will add on to that, making the entire story better. **

We walked on the large cobble stoned path, heading toward Ivarstead. I couldn't help but stare at the back of Duvaithor's head, waiting. Waiting for the sudden attack he had been waiting to give. Yet it never came. I highly doubted that I was suddenly justified by saving him from a bear. No, there was something else. Something dark. I just didn't know what that obscurity was.

I rubbed my scarred forearms, pondering if I should ask him to heal those wounds as well, but I shook off the feeling. I gazed at a large tower as we continued walking.

"Up here is Valtheim tower, prepare yourself, I sense foes ahead." Duvaithor warned, his eyes narrowing.

Suddenly, an arrow whizzed pass my head. I clutched my shield, unsheathing my silver sword. _Bandits. _Duvaithor and I charge the bandit woman who was standing watch. With unimaginable speed, she spun, slicing and hacking her iron great-sword toward us. I stumbled as the force of her blow braced my shield. I openly jerked her with my shield, knocking her backward. With the slight distraction, Duvaithor jumped while swinging his dagger. Blood spewed from the bandit's throat, spraying the ground as she twitched. She tried screaming; only managing to make a slight gurgling sound. Rapidly, more of her clan joined in the fight. Two men charged me as Duvaithor assaulted one opponent. While bashing one man with my shield, I sparred with the other. The thug striking my shield crouched, slashing my left calf. I winced as the blade slid through muscles and tendons. I twirled on my right foot, decapitating the standing bandit, then striking the other with the butt of my blade. The bearded man crumpled to the dirt.

Duvaithor had just slayed his third challenger as I walked up to him. He drew his new found sword from one of the fallen bandit's chest. He picked up that same thug's hand, whipping the blood off the long rapier. He let the woman's arm drop once the blade gleamed. I stared at him with shock as he inspected the elven sword. He smiled toothily when he noticed my gaze. He held up his prize.

"Not bad, eh?" he chuckled. I shook my head and smirked. Duvaithor shrugged and entered the tower.

"Where are you going?" I hollered at him. He waved me away.

"It'll only take a moment." I followed him, curious as to what he was up to. I found him kneeling beside a chest, vigilantly picking the lock with his tongue sticking out in concentration.

"You're a down right old fool, Duvaithor." I snickered holding my stomach. He stared at me quizzically.

"Oy! Ha, I can't be much older than you my dear… besides, it's not like they will be in any need of the loot." He said returning to his work. I kneeled beside him, observing. He turned and twisted the pick until it broke. He irritably fished in his pocket for another.

"Try more to the right." I murmur. He sighed deeply.

"Do you mind?"

"Oh, sorry…" I sat and watched him work at the master lock. Without realizing it, I was nearly inches from him. He turned to me. My eyes widen as I felt his warm breath on my cheek. He stared into my eyes, then gazing at my lips.

"You like what you see, yes?" he wiggled his reddish eyebrows foolishly. I clucked my tongue and shoved his face away as I stood. He snickered as he opened the lock, practically getting into the chess with all of the treasure. He giggled like a nord child. I shake my head as the greedy elf examined the rubies and sapphires in the bottom of the chest. A wave of realization hit me. Maybe we _weren't_ so different from them_…_

I snapped out of my trance and chuckled.

"Calm down, you greedy bastard." His head snapped up. He stuck his tongue out at me and continued digging in the chest.

I got lost in watching him looking at all of his new treasure. He finally stepped out wearing new gauntlets and a circlet of Magicka. He shoved the gems and coins in his belt pouches. With a last glance in the chest he smiled. He plucked the last tiny object up with his long index finger and thumb. Duvaithor looked at me smirking.

"Here my housecarl, for your good health." He sung as he handed me the gold ring with a ruby placed in the center. A health ring… he would say that. I slipped in on my finger, instantaneously feeling a tiny serge of power. I gasped as the shock spread through me.

"The most curious sensation comes from a ring… who would think," I announced as I stroked the metal. As I looked up I found the small tower room vacated. "Duvaithor?" I whispered. I spun around to a warm breeze on the back of my neck. There he stood, half way up the stairs. He stared at my scarred arms. Nothing seeming to destroy his gaze.

"What happened to your arms?" he asked clutching them in his hands. I winced, expecting it to hurt, yet no pain came.

"It's nothing, I merely fell." I said snatching away my arms. He seemed worried.

"I can heal them right up, if you'd like." He said reaching for them again.

"No!" I hissed, slapping his hands away. "They will make nice scars," I lied. His lip puffed out slightly, but then he shook it off.

He turned slightly, climbing another step, muttering something about how weird women were with accepting help.

The dark elf turned then and held out his hand, his long slender fingers slightly curved inward.

"Shall we check upstairs?" he smiled humbly, his eyes glowing whiter than before. My heart lifted up as I began reaching for his smooth palm, smiling myself.

_This is only a con Lydia…_ I slapped his hand away and continued up the stairs, cursing myself as I climbed. I saw him frown deeply, his forehead creasing, as he examined his now stinging hand. The feeling of self-loathing surfaced in my chest as I searched through shelves and barrels. I ignored the fact Duvaithor had climbed the stairs, and was no doubly starring right at me, wondering what the hell had gotten into me. Then again, I shouldn't care. I knew nothing about the damned elf, nor did I want to. For all I knew he could still be planning to murder me and take all I had. Or just simply up and mug me. Or perhaps worse. Would he rape me?

I glanced uneasily at him from the corner of my eye. He was picking nirnroot from a knapsack. He placed the glowing, ringing plant into his bag, with some other plants he had been collecting for alchemic purposes. I exhaled slowly. How was I to keep being his housecarl if I didn't even trust him?

I risked another glimpse of him, this time I was caught red handed. He sighed heavily and glared at me, sitting straight up. His arched eyebrows scrunched together.

"What?" he asked firmly. I shot my head back down to the ruined books I was holding, hoping beyond hope I could still get away without being detected. No such luck. "Well? Spit it out, what's the matter?" he crossed his arms irritably, destroying the nightshade flower in his hand. I shrugged deeply, not knowing how to say what I truly thought without seeming rude.

"Well, it's just…" I began.

"It's just what, exactly." He hissed, already offended. I took a deep breath. If he wanted honesty, I'd give him honesty.

"It's just that I feel like you only asked me to follow you around so you could slaughter me, eat me, mug me, throw me to wolves, or well, _something_ that may or may not fall under the categories of sexual assault…" I glanced at him innocently. His face was incomprehensible. Either he was highly amused or going to throw up or somewhere in between. "And..."

"And? There's an and?" he whispered almost mutely. His eyes were more veiled than the rest of him. I bit my lip tentatively. Dare I go on?

"And… you just make me feel like I should always watch my back with you around…" I held my breath as that sunk in. dead silence oozed into the night.

Half an hour passed of his inaudibility and my failure to move. Our eyes never parted as we remained as stone. Would this ever end? Or would new bandits come and find us dead in this position, frozen forever, not from the bitter cold of Skyrim, but merely from the other's gaze.

Finally, Duvaithor's lips parted, the grey skin seeming to lighten.

"I hadn't realized I was giving off the 'murderer/cannibal/thief/psycho/rapist' vibe. But I will be sure to only seem as the psychotic part for the remainder of our journey." He snickered indefinitely. I let out a small huff of old air, thankful he hadn't been scorned from the harsh words too badly. He seemed to apprehend my puff and nodded, returning to his looting. I wobbled my head and opened another unreadable book.

_Yo_u _are a complete idiot Lydia… _

I rose and wondered around the room, mainly listening to the creak of the old floor. I looked through a doorway leading out onto a bridge crossing over the large river heading to another tower. I smiled softly.

"Oy elf, there's another tower up ahead." To my words, Duvaithor bolted up excitedly. He laughed eagerly. I had begun walking. I held my head high, not daring to look down as I continued to cross the bridge. I could hear Duvaithor practically skipping behind me. I smiled delicately, nearly forgetting my deep dark fear of plummeting into the wild river far below.

I breathed in deeply, slightly turning my head to see him. I wanted to see him happy, not sarcastic joy. There was a huge colossal difference. I caught sight of him in mid skip, the bright sun enveloping him. I smiled at the sight, it seemed like he was flying. Half of me wanted to turn completely, and the other half wanted to turn back around and continue to the next tower. My two sides were so indecisive that my feet tangled together, causing me to trip, nearly sending me over the edge. My heart stopped as I caught sight of the water roaring under us. I steadied myself, wishing Duvaithor hadn't seen that. He stopped skipping long enough to make sure I was secured, and then continued with his prance. I exhaled deeply, keeping my head down, focusing on my feet. We were half way across the long stone bridge by now. As I continued to watch my path, a sudden roar of terror filled my ears behind me. Duvaithor was screaming for his bloody life. No, not his, mine.

"Lydia! LOOK OUT!" Duvaithor screamed. I glimpsed a single bowman on the top of the new tower as he aimed his longbow at me. Duvaithor was sprinting for me, but he was too far behind. The rogue let loose an arrow, and there was nowhere to hide. I jerked to the side as the arrow came closer. The arrow head skimmed the skin of my arm. I twirled miss stepping, twisting my ankle, and begun falling. I screamed as I thrashed through the air. I was going to die from impacting the water to hard. I saw the bowman falling as well, black smoke where he used to be. Duvaithor had killed him with a fireball. At least he avenged my death. I tried looking for him as I knew I would hit the water soon. Yet I knew it, my screams didn't stop. My eyes squinted though.

"The Hell?" I whispered inaudibly. Duvaithor was suddenly coming _to_ me. He had dived and was now picking up speed. Duvaithor had jumped for _me?_ I was just a housecarl to him. He had left all that treasure, just to save me. He was now diving head first, slicing right through the air. He grabbed me around the waist and pulled me on top of him. I dug my nails into his chest as he quickly flared his hands, casting a spell that encased himself and I. A blue glowing light covered my skin.

The impact was painful, but strangely not overwhelming. I was still in Duvaithor's arms as we raced to the surface for air. Swiftly, we reached the bank and rested in the muddy grass. I gasped and heaved as he heaved and gasped. I looked at him as he stared up at the sky catching his breath, his red-orange hair no longer in a neat high pony tail, but now sticking to his face.

_Why had he done that?_

**So why DID he do it? Haha, well I hope everyone enjoyed it, please R&R and keep with me! There is ****a lot**** more to come!**


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